When Winter Cries
by Paradox.bookjunkie
Summary: Luna's life. Written for the Title Challenge.


**A/N everything you recognize is J.K. Rowling's.**

All she could remember of her mother was her scent.

Her mother smelled of roses and lemons.

And sunshine.

Yes, if sunshine had a smell, that's what she smelled like.

Snow was melted by sunshine and eventually dissolved into water. Into tears.

That is how Luna earned the nickname Snow.

It wasn't just because of her icy looks, or frigid nature, but because her mother had been the only one to ever really be able to make her lay aside her boundaries. To make her show emotion.

Because, even with her vague nature, Luna had walls.

A lot of them.

After her mother died, they became like prison cell walls.

Indestructible.

And the hurt came.

It was her mother's fault.

_She_ was the only one Luna had ever opened herself up to, and she died.

She was gone.

_She_ was the one that was behind that gaping hole in her chest.

Others couldn't see it, but Luna could.

She could see it clear as day, as if there was a bullet imbedded in her.

And it was all her mother's fault.

So the walls never came down.

The best her father ever got out of her was a tiny lifting of her mouth.

And that was all it took.

Xenophilius Lovegood could have lived off of those smiles.

If you could even call them that.

He lived for those days when she would turn the opaque walls into something almost penetrable, even if only for the half a second.

His Snow was the only thing that kept him happy.

His Snow Queen.

Then came the time when Luna had to go to Hogwarts.

She stood on the platform. The smoke coming from the magnificent scarlet train in front of her swirled around her. She stood solitary. Her father had just left, planting a single kiss on her cheek, telling her he loved her.

She had wanted to run after him, tell him not to leave her alone.

Tell him to stay.

Tell him she loved him.

But she mustn't, because if she did…

He'd hurt her, too.

He'd be gone, and she'd cry, when no one could see her. In the shadows.

Snow melting in the shadows. Impossible, some might say.

Yes, she was standing there, the white knuckled grip she held onto her trunk covered by the gray, baggy sweater that hung off of her frail frame, when someone knocked into her. She stumbled almost falling, and looked up.

There, in front of her was a ruddy cheeked boy. He turned even redder in embarrassment, murmuring apology after apology.

And suddenly, he was gone.

Whisked away into the fog of smoke covering the platform.

On the train, she sat down. Her compartment was empty.

She fiddled with the radish earrings in her ears.

Being alone and solitary in her nature, she never really got the point of fashion.

She wore crazy, silly things. They brightened up her appearance, she thought, colourful in contrast to her life, her looks.

She curled up into the corner of the seat against the window, the cold surface of the window pressing into the low back of her sweater. She placed her face against her knees, and went to sleep.

She woke up to the rattling of the compartment door. A lady with a cart of colourful sweets stood on the other side. "Best change, dearie." She said kindly, as Luna passed her a few coins in exchange for two Chocolate Frogs.

"You're almost to Hogwarts."

The year was tough on Luna. She didn't make friends, she wasn't popular. She was in Ravenclaw, which meant she had to hold up her grades, or she was considered odd. Even more that she was already.

But, she made it through the year, and went home. Came back and went home. The years went on like that.

Until.

In her fourth year, she met Harry Potter. Harry Potter and his friends, Hermione, Ginny and Ron, and Neville, the boy she'd seen so many years ago on the platform. Suddenly, she was swept into a whirlwind of things unknown.

When, finally the war was over, she returned to the odd little house, on an odd little hill. Her home.

She had Neville in tow. All her other friends had things to do, interviews, pictures. Harry and Ginny were being bombed with paparazzi. But Neville, sweet, reliant Neville, was always open for anything she wanted to do. She was seventeen now, and it was time to clean her stuff out of the house. Her eyes burned.

She'd still never shown any emotion to her father over the years. If anything, the human contact made her more distant from him. But she was going to show him. Today.

They knocked on the door. Xenophilius opened the door. The moment he saw his daughter, his face lit up. "Luna!" He hugged her.

She stiffened, as she usually did. By the time she was going to soften and hug him back, he'd already pulled away. _Stupid!_

She silently cursed herself. Why was she slipping back into old habits?

Xenophilius was looking at Neville, who was nervously regarding the signs on the lawn. "Luna?" He asked awkwardly. "Luna, who is your friend?"

"Oh, Dad," she said, placing her hand on Neville's shoulder. "Um, this is Neville. He's going to help me load up my things." Xenophilius nodded a few times to many, as if trying to convince himself that it was okay. "Oh, yes," He said, head still nodding. "Of course."

The two went up to Luna's bedroom. She had already started packing a few of her things when she loaded up her trunk for Hogwarts. The pictures on her wall of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville smiled and waved as they entered. Neville stared up at his own face, which winked in return.

"Oh my gosh, Luna!" he breathed. "This is amazing!" He twirled around on the blue mat, gave up and just lay down on the floor, gazing up at the images. Luna lay down next to him, blonde hair fanning out onto the rug. After a while, Neville turned to her, going to say something about getting started, and stopped, when he saw silent tears streaming down her face. "Luna! What's wrong?" He asked, confused. "Nothing." She said, turning away and tucking her knees to her chest.

"Tears aren't 'nothing'." He said pulling her back to face him. She cast her eyes down.

"It's just…this is where I was born Neville!" She said quietly, brushing tears off her face with the heel of her palm. "This is where my family has lived and…died." She gave up brushing the tears away and sat, burying her head in her knees and sobbing. "And…I'm just…leaving!" she choked between sobs, crying even harder as Neville tried to hug her. He managed to get her calmed down, after what seemed like forever, crying on his shoulder. She sat up straight, rubbing her hands over her face. "I-I think I'm going to see Dad" She said, brushing herself off and standing up. Neville nodded understandingly, and stayed where he was, giving her a small smile as she walked out of the room.

She walked slowly down the stairs. Xenophilius looked up from where he was stirring soup on the stove with a quick smile, which faded when he saw his daughter's face stained with tears. Without a word, he turned off the stove and opened his arms welcomingly.

Luna walked into them, smelling mint and spices, breathing in the smell of her father that she'd never wanted to know. She didn't know how long it lasted, but finally, Xenophilius kissed the top of her head. She nodded and smiled at him, an actual smile that made his heart leap with joy, and she up the stairs to her room.

"When winter cries…" Xenophilius mused quietly to himself, a knowing smile upon his wise lips. "All things are possible."

He whistled about his work, stirring the soup and setting the table, his heart bursting with happiness.


End file.
